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“No, I… uh, that’s to say, I, er…”

“Just tell her the truth, Molly.”

I knew that voice. When I saw who was standing in my best friend’s apartment, I nearly died. “What are you doing here? And not wearing a shirt.” And then it hit me, and my eyes flicked to Molly. “Oh, shit, oh, hell. You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you? Tell me I’m seeing things.” My accusatory glance penetrated hers as she squirmed.

“I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid.”

“Yeah, because you knew how much it would hurt me.”

“Chloe, please let us explain,” Hugh said.

I stuck my finger out at him. “You don’t get to say a word about this. You hear me? This is between Molly and me.”

“Chloe, I knew you’d react this way if I told you, which was why I didn’t,” Molly said.

I went to respond but stopped. She was right. But she was supposed to be my best friend and have my back. And this was not having my back. This man was no friend of mine. “You know, you’re right, Molly. I hope you two have fun together.” I hurried out of her apartment as she called out to me. But to hell with her. It seemed like the world was currently conspiring against me.

As I drove home, embroiled in my own pity party, I let the last few weeks replay in my head. What the hell had I been thinking? I was usually super levelheaded. Apparently, my brain had flown the coop when I’d seen a penis. Make that two. That shit was over. I know, I’d said it before, but this time I really meant it.

When I got home, I went to bed and cried. Molly had been with me through thick and thin, only now I felt like she’d betrayed me. Who could I trust anymore? My heart ached with loneliness and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get over this.

In the morning, as I was getting ready, I reached for my pack of birth control pills. I swallowed my one for the day, but then I mentally calculated when my last period had been. I was on my last pill of the fourth week. I should’ve gotten my period by now. I never missed it. Ever. I picked up the pack and stared at it. Then I picked up my unopened one just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. Nope, I should’ve gotten my period. I knew some women skipped them, but not me.

I ran to my computer and Googled it. Everything I checked said it was common for some women to miss a period here or there. But I had a really bad feeling about this. I checked my pill pack again, just to make sure I had taken them all. I hadn’t missed a single one. I never missed taking them. I was super diligent about it. The only time I’d messed up was the weekend I’d spent with Ryan, but I’d made sure to double up on Sunday.

It was getting late, so I left for work. All day long the only thing I could think of was my stupid period. I even Googled how soon you could check to see if you were pregnant. This was crazy. And the worst part of it was I couldn’t even call Molly and ask for her advice.

For two days I obsessed over this. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, and I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing, other than being pregnant. What the hell would I do with a baby? I could scarcely take care of myself. Fuck my life. A couple of weeks of fun just had to turn into this, didn’t it?

On the third day, I finally gave in and bought a pregnancy test. If it was too early, it would show negative and I would happily wander off in a world of make-believe until serious symptoms developed, which was perfectly fine with me.

I hurried home from work and tore the stupid kit open. It seemed like it took forever as I waited for the results. I stared at that stick for those two minutes and didn’t breathe. As my eyes were locked on the thing, I knew that silly piece of plastic held so much power over me. It would either set me free or change my life forever.

Twelve

Ryan

Ian walked into my office with a smug smile and sat across from me. “Are you finished with hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” I snapped.

He chuckled. “You have been absent for the last couple of weeks, ever since that lunch mishap with Chloe.”

I turned my back to him, reaching for a file on my credenza behind me. I schooled my features, knowing he could read me like a book. When I turned back, his brow was lifted.

“She doesn’t want to see me,” I admitted. “And I can’t see her without wanting her.”

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